


I Just Need You Now

by radicallyred



Category: Dear Evan Hansen
Genre: AU, Everyone lives/Nobody dies, M/M, Smut, Tree Bros, im sorry mom, this is literally just smut, with like a little fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-29 02:11:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11430993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radicallyred/pseuds/radicallyred
Summary: more smut. more love. more tree bros.tell me if this sucks.





	I Just Need You Now

"Connor," Evan murmurs. It's late, well after two in the morning, and the two are cuddled together on a lounge chair by the pool. The moonlight is striking the water in a way that it's reflection is almost as beautiful as the real thing, Evan thinks as breath tickles his ear. His response is merely a hum against his temple, arms squeezing tighter around his waist. Evan inhales deeply and closes his eyes.  


"I love you." He whispers it so gently that it would be missed if not for their proximity to each other. Connor looks at him, eyes shining impeccably and he kisses his neck.  
"I've been waiting to hear you say that for so long," He kisses him again. "I am very much in love with you." He says reverently. Connor has said it before; the first time he said it, Evan worked himself up so much he panicked and Connor had to talk him down, telling him that he's okay and he doesn't need to say it back until he's ready. Evan turns slightly into the embrace and he kisses Connor for real this time, soft lips and feather light touches.  
"Connor," he gasps as his hands travel lower. He pauses, hand on his cheek, the other resting low on his belly, and looks at him through long lashes.  
"Is this okay?" Evan swallows.  
"Can we m-move to y-your room?" Evan asks touching his face, kissing him gently.  
"Yeah, come on." Connor says and helps him up, resting his hand on Evan's lower back.  


The door is shut and Connor rakes his eyes over Evan's body, who shivers in response. The gesture is so obvious, almost starkly funny in its clear meaning.  
"I am so happy I found you." Evan whispers against his lips. Connor shudders at the hot breath that dances over them.  
"I love you." He breathes. Connor smiles and kisses him.  
"I love you, too." He lets go and takes a few steps back.  
"Take off your clothes," He says, his voice even softer. And Evan, blushing bright crimson, is compelled to obey, couldn't control his body if he tried.  
Connor doesn't move, just stands there by the bed with arms folded, observing as Evan slides the belt from his pants. Evan removes his shirt carefully, sets it on the chair, atop his jacket, then takes a step forward, down to his briefs.  


"What do you think?" Evan asks quietly. Connor's eyes are dark as they rake over his body. He'd feel even more exposed if not for the easily evident bulge tenting Connor's pants. Connor's jaw tightens, and Evan sees him swallow visibly before he drags an impatient hand through his hair and says, "Come here."  
Evan bites down on his lower lip as he registers the hoarse arousal that tinges his voice. They're not so far apart now, and he takes another step closer, shortening the gap even more as he licks his lips. Connor swallows again, reaches out slowly, reverently, hands on his shoulders pressing down, stopping him in his tracks, grounding him.  
Those hands slide down his upper arms, an inch at a time, the touch feather-light. They drift from his biceps to his chest, one hand stroking down his left side, the other rubbing and pinching his nipple - Evan gasps, eyes slowly sliding shut as he registers a slight sting, followed by an immensely pleasurable rush of sensation.  
"More of that," he chokes, and Connor smiles, hand moving to the other, repeating the movement.  
"Look at you," He says. "I love how responsive you are. So pretty for me."  


He gasps and nods as Connor moves both hands to his chest, pinching and playing with his reddening nipples. Evan tips his head up, parting his lips expectantly, and is rewarded with a rough kiss, teeth sinking into his lower lip and tongue pushing into his mouth. Connor does not let Evan lead—not that he wants to; he steers the ship, so to speak, sets the pace as he moves his hands down his abdomen, fingers sinking slightly into flesh, on a mission.  
When Connor's fingertips sink beneath the waistband of his underwear, he whines a little into the kiss, prompting another sharp nip to Evan's bottom lip. "Good boy," he murmurs and his head gets a little muddier with the praise as he allows Connor to slide his underwear down over his thighs, stepping out of them automatically as they join the pants puddled on the floor.  
Evan sucks in a breath as the cool air of the room meets his heated flesh. One of Connor's hands tangles in his hair, tugging his head back and exposing more of his throat. His lips close over the pulse point beneath his ear, sucking and biting, and Evan gasps, eyes closed, allowing himself to be pushed backward onto the four-poster bed as Connor lays him down.  
Evan melts into the sheets as Connor clambers atop, crouching on all fours over his frame. His hands are all over, touching the nape of his neck, his chest, his stomach, inner thighs, everywhere but his leaking erection.  


"You look so pretty," Connor is murmuring into his collarbone, "so fucking pretty all laid out for me."  
Evan absolutely whimpers as Connor sucks a bruising kiss into his clavicle. "Oh, my God," Evan mutters. "Connor, please, I need you to — please touch me."  
He glances up at him, eyes sparkling, dips his head and scrapes his teeth across the expanse of his chest, making him shiver. "Am I not touching you?" It's not — it's agony, his erection leaking, pelvis straining upward as Connor lavishes attention on every other part of his body, still fully clothed himself as he grinds down against his thigh. "Let me try harder."  
"C-Connor," he mutters. "I just — please —" Evan cringes at the sound of his own voice, scratchy with want and bordering on pathetic, needy. But Evan needs this. He needs to be touched, needs some relief after the tension of the night, the dancing, the bottle of wine forgotten by the pool, all of it. Evan loves him. Loves his smile, his laugh, the way he wakes him up in the morning. Evan needs him and he's not even scared to admit that. Connor flashes a quick, wicked smile, and kneels upright before climbing off Evan altogether.  
"Turn over." Connor hums. Evan blinks confusedly at Connor. He's briefly taken aback when Connor grabs his hips and flips him. And then — oh, God. Evan buries his face in his hands as Connor palms his thighs with both hands, spreading him open. There's a hot ghost of a breath before he the swipe of a tongue at his hole, and Evan groans, fingers digging into the buttery fabric of the sheets.  


Something he'd learned after a few weeks in bed with him is that Connor like to take his time. He likes to go slow and methodical at first before giving in and letting loose. Now, he teases Evan with small swipes of his tongue as he writhes beneath him. He's a breathless wreck thirty seconds in, begging wordlessly for more. The sensation is overwhelming and nowhere near enough all at once, and after a few endless minutes he's actually shaking, his whole body vibrating with want, muscles aching from holding back as Connor teases him with his tongue.  
He pulls away and Evan looks back at him and can't hold back a moan at what he sees: His lips and chin shiny with saliva, his pupils blown, his chest already heaving. They exchange a long, wordless stare, before Evan summons what energy he has and begs, "Connor. Please. I need you."  
He nods, stoic, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows hungrily. Then he bends down, fishing in a drawer for a moment before popping back upright with a condom and lube. He watches in silent anticipation as his long, slim fingers dip into him, sending sparks shooting across his field of vision as they brush his prostate. He has no idea what he's even saying anymore, just knows he must be making noise as Connor fingers him. Evan is begging incoherently, just begging for more, to be filled, to be fucked.  


"Evan," he hears Connor growl. He whines as he removes his fingers, the sudden feeling of emptiness less than desirable. "Open your eyes." Connor instructs.  
Evan obliges and is not disappointed at what he sees. He is met with the sight of Connor yanking his shirt off over his head. He wants to tell him to slow down, let him enjoy this as much as he enjoyed the show he put on for him, but at the same time, he's so desperate, just wants to be filled again, that he can't bring himself to say the words out loud. Connor's chest is everything — strong, broad, well-muscled — and Evan's mouth falls open hungrily as Connor shucks his pants and boxer briefs in one go, erection springing free. His cock is thick and long, the head a dark red as it helplessly leaks. Evan licks his lips subconsciously. Connor chuckles but says nothing as he reaches for the condom, rolling it onto his cock in achingly slow movements. Evan is mesmerized and reduced to a boneless heap. He wants to help, to pass him the lube, help him put the condom on or shift positions. But Evan is frozen and can't move even if he wanted to. Connor taps him on the hip, gesturing for him to move closer to the side of the bed, and he does, in slight confusion. Connor climbs onto the mattress, propping himself up on his elbows, and leaning up to kiss Evan hotly.  


"I want you to ride me," he growls into the kiss. "I want you to do the work. Can you do that for me, Ev?" He breathes.  
"I — y-y-yes," he says haltingly, gasping as he feels Connor's hand move to his cock. "Yes."  
"Please," Connor groans, and then he's gripping Evan by either side of his hips, and he lets him rearrange their position, helpless and pliable as he moves to straddle him. He reaches behind, gripping his thick length by the base, and grinds back against it, rubbing the tip against the cleft of his ass. Evan is determined to make this good, to give Connor what he deserves. For making him feel beautiful and sexy and loved and wanted. Connor groans, falling back to rest against the pillows as Evan grinds against his cock.  
"Go on, baby," he says, his voice hoarse and raspy. "Show me how you fuck yourself. Put on a show for me."  
Evan's eyes widen as he guides his cock to his entrance and slowly begins to sink down upon it. He's so much thicker, so much longer than he'd expected at this angle, even now — the stretch of it is exquisite, filling him up.  


"Oh my God," he murmurs as he is finally seated on Connor. "Oh, my God—"  
Jesus. He feels so full now, and Connor's cock is hot and slick and fucking huge and his eyes slide shut. Evan can't think about anything else, about his body or putting on any kind of show, as he lifts himself up an inch or two on his knees and then sinks back down onto him with a low hiss.  
"You're so fucking gorgeous," he hears Connor breathe. "Go ahead, fuck, bounce on it —"  
Evan's face flushes even warmer, head spinning dizzily as he quickens his pace steadily, working himself up to an eager pace. He's so turned on, and he takes a steadying breath, inhales as deeply as he can and he keeps fucking himself on his length as Connor's long fingers dig into his thighs. His free hand goes back to his face, and he leans in to capture his lips in a heated kiss.  


They don't last very long, either of them. Granted, Evan certainly didn't expect to, after the buildup, but only after a few deep thrusts of his hips is he shaking through his orgasm, bouncing on Connor's cock all the way through it. And all the while, Connor's eyes are fixed on him, his hands, his chest, his stomach, his hips. Evan feels his hips snap up sharply, hammering into his prostate and Connor comes, his thrusts slowing to a stop moments later. Time seems to slow to a crawl as he gingerly lifts himself off of Connor and collapses to the bed beside him. Evan goes limp, his entire body feeling wrung out and overworked. A hand lands on his back, calmly stroking down his spine, and it makes him shudder.  
Connor rearranges their position again, wrapping his arm around Evan's shoulders, pulling him closer and letting him bury his face into the broad chest beside him. Evan takes a few deep breaths, inhaling sweat and salt and the day-old remnants of cologne, as the world settles back into place.  


"Thank you," He says, voice muffled as he nuzzles into Connor's side. Evan doesn't know why he says it, only that it seems like the right thing to do in the moment. He feels his chest shake with a huff of laughter, and a gentle hand moves to his hair, petting and massaging his scalp in small strokes. It feels...safe. Like Evan was meant to be here. Like he's home.  
"You did so well," Connor murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you."  


Evan closes his eyes, the weight of the day finally settling down upon him. He can feel himself begin to drift off to sleep, and struggles briefly against the riptide, but Connor just keeps stroking his hair, and he knows he can't hold on much longer.  
"Love you, too." Evan murmurs before he falls asleep on Connor's chest, one hand still tangled softly in his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> not betad, written on my phone and it's probably ooc *shrugs* hope you enjoyed. comments and kudos are encouraged but not necessary. hit me up on tumblr: radicallyred. okay love you bye.


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